Scratch
by Tono Radish
Summary: After a horrible accident kills Matthew's secret lover, Gilbert, he is presented with a chance to bring his loved one back. However, the price would be a life of servitude and Gilbert's memories of Matthew would not be intact. Even so, a life without Gilbert would be infinitely worse. So, bring it on.
1. Chapter 1: The First Reset

**Welcome to my first fic in a while. I'm just vibing with PruCan right now so I thought why not scribble up a shawty.**

Chapter 1: The First Reset

"I just don't understand why you're mad at me!" The white haired man called out to his significant other who was power walking away.

"You do this every time, Gilbert! Every single damn time!"

"Mattie, please!"

The shorter man stopped abruptly, the taller Gilbert almost colliding with him in his haste. Gilbert looked down into the violet eyes of his furious lover. The pale man's face was as red as his puffer coat. Gilbert had definitely made an oopsie. It was almost like there was steam coming out of Mattie's ears.

"That was Alfred's Christmas party! I haven't seen my family in nearly four years, you knew what tonight meant to me!"

"Come on, Mattie. You were just so cute under the mistletoe."

"Stop with the Mattie! I'm so angry right now! You know I don't want Alfred or anyone else in my family knowing about us! You swore you'd help me keep it secret tonight! But just like every other time you showed no restraint!"

Gilbert began to simmer in the snow, glaring down at his boyfriend, "We've been together for two years, Matthew. When are you going to tell them about me?"

"Never, Gilbert!"

"Why not? Is it because you're ashamed of me?"

"You know that's not why!"

"Yes it is. You think your cute little conservative old money parents don't know a queer when they see one?"

"That's not-"

"It's not just me you're ashamed of either," Gilbert held Matthew firmly by the shoulders, his face went from upset to hurt almost immediately, "Just come out to them, Mattie. They already know."

Matthew pushed Gilbert off of him, "and whose fault do you think that is!?"

Gilbert stumbled back as Matthew began to power walk away again. His took his own hat off and pressed it to his face in his hands and screamed into it before sloppily putting it back on and running after Matthew.

"Mattie!"

"I'm done with this conversation, Gilbert!"

"Come on, Mattie! Slow down!"

"You should go stay at Francis's place tonight if you know what's good for you!"

"Mattie, please! It's cold! I'm feeling faint!"

"That's not going to work on me this time, you bozo."

Mattie only stopped walking when he heard Gilbert collapse in the snow behind him. He froze in his tracks. Don't look, don't look, don't look. But Mattie couldn't stop himself, he looked. Gilbert was lying face down in the grass by the sidewalk, unmoving. Mattie wanted to just keep walking but instead his body moved on its own and his mouth stretched into a straight line of disenchantment. He walked up to the body and kicked it over. Gilbert grunted in slight pain and laughed.

"This isn't over, Gilbert," Mattie said in deadpan.

"I know, I'm sorry. Now come down here."

Mattie crouched down and found a comfortable place in Gilbert's arms in the snow. Mattie squeezed the moron tightly and squeezed his eyes shut. Gilbert pat his shoulder length blonde hair.

"I know it's tough on you Gilbert. And I do want to come out to them… just… not yet."

"I know, Mattie. I'm sorry for being such a dick about it."

"Well, you are what you eat."

Gilbert kissed Mattie's forehead, not even trying to deny it. Things would probably be fine if Matthew came out to his family. He could start with his brother, Alfred. Alfred would help him, if Alfred understood. It was a difficult situation to be in your mid-twenties and still be lying to everyone. And Matthew did want to come out, not only for Gilbert but for himself. It was thanks to Gilbert Matthew felt he should even try to get back into contact with his family after his disappearing act. It just gets so hard to live like you're two people. It was better to start from scratch in a new town where no one knew you and no one cared about you.

"Come on, Gilbert. Let's go back to the hotel."

"Carry me, Mattie," Gilbert whined.

"If you wanted me to carry you you should have kept playing dead."

"Bleh," Gilbert shut his eyes and let his tongue hang out of his mouth. His arms were still raised in an attempt to make carrying him easier.

"Come on, Zombie Boy," and Mattie pulled Gilbert to his feet.

"Oh no! Mattie! The virus! It's changing me!" Gilbert shrieked holding onto Mattie tightly, "I'm really becoming a zombie!"

Mattie tried to wiggle free but Gilbert pulled him in gargling the word "brains" over and over again, kissing the smaller man on his head repeatedly. Mattie laughed but managed to free himself.

"Oh no! I'm becoming a kissing zombie too!"

"No! You can't!" Gilbert cried out desperately.

"What? Why not?"

"Because. Zombies don't eat other zombies… which means," he put on his best red eyed puppy dog face, "Zombies don't kiss each other either!"

Mattie ran back to Gilbert and knocked him down, "don't worry! I have the cure for the virus!"

Gilbert wiggled his eyebrows mischievously while his boy toy straddled him, "be gentle~"

Mattie leaned down, putting a hand over Gilbert's eyes to cover them. Gilbert's lips puckered up in the most cartoony way he could manage when his pale pink lips met with a fist full of snow. Mattie got up and ran as fast as he could toward the hotel while Gilbert chased after him chucking poorly packed snowballs that crumbled midair. Mattie saw the light turning to cross the street and knew this would be his big chance to evade the snowy assault. He nearly slipped making his way across but he managed to make it to the other side unscathed.

"You won't escape me, Mattie," Gilbert howled as he chased after him.

But in crossing the street Gilbert slipped and fell down, a horrible cracking noise echoed from where his head hit the pavement. The wind whistled by as Gilbert remained on the ground.

"Gilbert?"

Matthew laughed nervously, "Gilbert you can quit playing now."

No response. Matthew took a step forward, the snow crunched underneath him. He took another step. And then another. Until he was standing over Gilbert.

"Gilbert?"

No response.


	2. Chapter 2: The Big Deal

**Quick shout out to RainFlight31039 for being the first to comment! I'm going into this pretty blind. I really don't know where this is gonna go. Hopefully somewhere fun.**

Chapter 2: The Big Deal

There was a knock on Gilbert's bedroom door but Matthew didn't respond. He had buried himself in Gilbert's old blankets and pillows in an attempt to keep Gilbert with him. The one who knocked entered the room and took a seat at the edge of the bed.

"Mattie, you have to eat something."

Matthew sat up in bed and looked at his brother, Alfred, who had flown out to be with him in Gilbert's absence. Alfred and Matthew looked fairly alike, however Alfred's eyes were blue and he kept his hair in a shorter more formal cut as opposed to Matthew's shoulder length waves. Their parents used to tease Matthew about trying to tame the mop he called hair but if Matthew didn't do this then he would continue to be mistaken for Alfred when they were in school together.

"Hey Alfred, can you make more pancakes?"

Alfred looked like he was about to contest but held back and smiled, "sure, buddy. I'll go make some now."

When Alfred left the room he left the door open behind him. Matthew just stared through it at Alfred entering the small apartment kitchen. Hearing his brother clank around in there it felt almost as if Gilbert were still alive. He wished Alfred had closed the door so he could pretend he was. Matthew buried himself back in the bedsheets and closed his eyes. With his eyes shut it was Gilbert mixing flour, eggs, and milk into a bowl. It was Gilbert humming a song offkey and realizing it halfway through then switching to another, easier song. The large pillow that kept Matthew company could be Gilbert, folded in such a way it felt almost as if he was resting his head on his lover's shoulder. Matthew hummed along with Gilbert to his easier song. He squeezed Gilbert so tightly that he wouldn't be able to leave Matthew even if he opened his eyes. It's too late Gilbert, you're stuck here, you can't go anywhere, it's all over for you now. There's no escaping your Mattie.

"Knock knock," Alfred said cutting in, "They're a little ugly but the pancakes are done."

Matthew opened his eyes, his face smothered in a pillow. He sat up in bed again as his brother took a seat beside him. The pancakes were on a large serving plate, drowning in maple syrup and butter. For the first time in Matthew's life he understood that "too much butter" was a real thing and he was hoping it would make good on its threats and stop his heart. But the obscene amounts of butter and syrup only made his heart feel heavier. However, Alfred was right. A heavy heart aside, eating did temporarily fill the void.

When Matthew finally slowed down he noticed Alfred looking around the room at all the photographs Gilbert had taped to the walls. He commented on them.

"Gilbert really liked taking pictures."

"Yeah," Matthew said looking around at all the nature shots. There were only a handful of pictures of Gilbert and Matthew together on display. Matthew didn't want them to be put up, afraid of someone seeing them. Come to think of it, Matthew didn't want anyone to know about him and Gilbert. He was afraid if someone found out, no matter how removed they were, his family would hear about it. Gilbert had been Matthew's closest kept secret and now he only felt bad for treating him that way.

"Yeah, Gilbert," Matthew tried again, "was really into taking pictures."

An awkward silence fell over the two of them and Matthew regretted making a second attempt at talking. He tried again, for the sake of his brother. He just didn't want to seem too depressed. His brother didn't have to worry. Not that it wasn't appreciated. It just made him feel guilty, Matthew supposed.

"He also," Matthew stuttered, "If you look out in the living room he also like to make bad little wood carvings. He didn't do it all the time, just sometimes. He was uhhh really bad at it."

Alfred smiled nervously, "I was wondering what those were."

Another silence fell over them. Matthew fumbled with his plate of syrup and butter and accidentally spilled it onto the bed sheets. Alfred quickly grabbed the plate and fork and took it to the kitchen before returning and stripping the bed.

"Oh, I'll uh wash these," Alfred said frantically, almost relieved there was something else to do rather than talk.

Matthew helped Alfred strip the bed, equally grateful to his mistake. Alfred ran out of the room again and without blankets to hide in Matthew decided the couch was the next best option. He walked over to Gilbert's desk chair and put on a hoodie that was laying on it. Then he threw on Gilbert's very childish yellow bird print robe. Gilbert never washed the thing and for the first time Matthew was happy about it. He grabbed the pillow he called Gilbert and crashed onto the couch and waited for the sweet release of death… or at least for Alfred to try and talk to him again.

"So," right on cue, "were you able to get into contact with Gilbert's family?"

"No," Matthew said, "they're not close or anything. I'm not really sure he has any left."

"Any left?"

Matthew didn't respond to that. He knew he was being vague but he didn't really want to talk about it. Back when it was just them, Gilbert never really wanted to talk about it either. Alfred tried one last time.

"You had some mail, I left it here in the kitchen. I'll bring it over. We can look at some Sky Mall magazines and circle things we don't need but would totally waste money on like… uh… well like when we lived together. That's a dumb idea…"

Matthew didn't say anything. He knew Alfred was only trying but the more Alfred tried the more difficult Matthew wanted to be. His boyfriend was dead and he couldn't even talk about it because it was always a secret. And he could come out right now and say it. He could go on and on about his insecurities, about how he's been gay all this time, about how horribly in love with Gilbert he was. But… he just didn't want to. It didn't feel right. It was never going to feel right. He squeezed his pillow, it smelled more like him than Gilbert now. He heard Alfred sigh.

"I'm going on a jog, I can see you want to be alone. I'll be back before it gets dark."

With the sound of the door closing and locking, Matthew was alone again. And everything was worse. He had to get up from the couch because the pancakes were starting to hurt his stomach in that position. He left the pillow behind and wandered to the kitchen and picked up the mail. He sifted through it.

"Bill… bill… Sky Mall magazine…"

He stared at it for a while and set it aside. He should try to get along better with Alfred, the guy put his life on hold to be with Matthew in his hour of need. He should get some credit for that.

"Bill… coupon… What's this?"

Underneath all the crap paper was a large yellow envelope with something that felt the weight of a heavier magazine yet was strangely thin. He inspected it but there was no writing anywhere on it which meant someone had dropped it off by hand for him. A mysterious package. If Gilbert were there he would start rambling about government secrets or evil syndicates. Matthew always thought it was funny but for whatever reason in that moment he felt a little scared. He took the envelope and its mysterious contents into Gilbert's room and closed the door behind him. He shut the curtains and made sure no one could see him as he opened it.

Inside was a little silver tablet.

Matthew held it up and inspected it. There seemed to be no way to turn it on. He looked at it more closely and saw a little camera at what he assumed was the top. A little red light lit up beside the camera and suddenly the tablet lit up.

It said, "facial recognition activated. Welcome Matthew Williams."

Matthew shrieked and almost dropped the tabet but managed to set it safely on the desk.

"H-How do you know my name?"

The robot voice responded, "Matthew Williams, you have been given a unique opportunity."

The screen revealed a picture of Gilbert, the one from his driver's license, and the tablet continued to speak, "Gilbert Beilschmidt has recently passed from this world however, should you agree to assist us, you will have the power to bring him back into your life."

"What the hell is going on," Matthew stammered, picking the tablet up, "what do you mean I can bring Gilbert back?"

"Inside the envelope you will find a silver ring," the robot said, Matthew looked for and found it while the robot continued, "Tonight at 02:00 hours, a car will be waiting for you at the end of this block. You have until 02:15 hours to enter the car wearing said ring. Once you do we will consider that your consent to what comes after."

"What comes after? Where will the car go?"

"To the one who has brought Gilbert Beilschmidt back."

"Has brought? You mean he's already done it? What about Alfred?"

"We are already aware Alfred Jones's presence in your home. He is not to know about tonight's rendezvous. Should he become aware, Gilbert Beilschmidt will be terminated immediately."

"Oh my god, what do I do? How will I sneak away without him knowing? Why am I even thinking of agreeing to this? But if Gilbert really is alive then…"

Matthew looked around the room at the photographs Gilbert took and at the photo of the two of them on Gilbert's desk. He took in a deep breath. If was all a trick who cared what happened to Matthew anyway… but if there was even a chance it wasn't…

"Alright, I'll do it," he said, his voice cracking cluing him in as to how scared he actually was of this whole thing.

But the tablet did not respond. It had just turned itself off. Well, he could ask more questions tonight. For now he'd have to hide the tablet. Matthew slipped the ring onto his right hand but then moved it to his left ring finger. It was overly dramatic, but it fit perfectly. A ring placed there meant a promise had been made. And Matthew silently promised he would find Gilbert again, tonight on this mysterious trip or in the afterlife if this trip was a trap.

Matthew lifted up the mattress to hide the tablet when he found a little black book with a lock on it and the word "tagebuch" on the cover.

"Holy shit," Matthew said as he replaced the book with the tablet and set the mattress back down, "is this what I think it is?"

Matthew made his way back to Gilbert's desk and fiddled with the book. The lock was silver and heart shaped. There was no doubt about it. This was Gilbert's diary. While Matthew fiddled with the lock, attempting to open it, he looked back on the relationship he'd had with Gilbert over the years. From the moment Matthew accepted Gilbert's online ad for a roommate and moved in, this little black book was something Gilbert always hinted at but never confirmed. Too many mysteries for one night.

He tucked the book in Gilbert's side drawer and, if he didn't die tonight, he would find the key… On the off chance Gilbert came home with him tonight he would present it as a funny welcome home gift. Matthew's heart stopped. If this was all a fever dream he prayed he wouldn't wake up. He had a chance to bring Gilbert home tonight. But what to do about Alfred?

The answer came to him in the photo Gilbert had of him and Matthew on his desk. It was their first big hang out after they stopped being awkward first-time roomies. They went to a beerhouse and got so trashed they woke up on the kitchen floor covered in flour and puke. Looking back on the night Matthew wondered how either of them found the other attractive after that. But that night revealed the way to make sure Alfred would not find out about Matthew's big plan. Inside the kitchen was an alcohol reserve to make Gilbert's German grandparents cry sloppily. Tonight Matthew was going to have a good and long drink with his brother until his brother blacked out.


	3. Chapter 3: The reConnecting

**Sweats nervously in Spanish…**

Chapter 3: The reConnecting

Alfred returned to the apartment looking a little worse for wear, but calmer. Matthew remained sprawled out on the couch where Alfred had last seen him, however it did seem his brother's sheets had been moved to the dryer. For some reason that made Alfred feel better. He didn't know why.

"Hey Mattie," Alfred said, collapsing onto the rug in front of the couch, "I'm sorry about earlier. Can we be friends again?"

Matthew put a pillow over his face and talked into it. Alfred couldn't be sure what Matthew said, all he could tell was the tone was snarky. It was most likely another depressed quip. Alfred sighed feeling tired all over again, like he never even left. Were they always like this? Was there ever a point where they were honest and genuinely got along? Alfred's brother was always the secretive type, maybe it was to balance out the fact that Alfred was the loud one who couldn't keep secrets… Either way…

"Come on, Mattie. Just tell me what you want. I don't know how to be there for you, okay? I admit it. I'm being honest, now you be honest."

Matthew audibly snorted underneath his pillow before removing it from his face and rolling over so he was able to really face Alfred and say, "You know what I want, honestly?"

Alfred stared tensely into the perplexing pools Matthew called eyes, "I do."

Matthew let another half assed grin stretch from his mouth, the closest thing to a smile he was able to make in front of Alfred, "I really want a drink."

Alfred clamped a hand onto Matthew's shoulder and pushed him lightly, his own mouth tightening into a straight line. He nodded vigorously, not looking at anything in particular before standing up.

"Me too, get your pants on."

"Noooooo Alfred, don't make me go out," Matthew moaned, rolling onto his stomach planting his face back into his pillow.

"We won't go to a bar but at least walk with me to a convenience store. You haven't left your apartment in days. Come on, you'll get some fresh air, take a knee in the parking lot, we'll chug as we walk back here, and if one of us isn't throwing up by the end of the night we'll have failed."

Matthew muffled something into his pillow. Alfred hoisted his brother onto his feet and pulled a Cheeto from Matthew's tangled locks (was that there the entire time or was it a new addition in the time Matthew spent alone earlier that day?). He pat Matthew's face attempting to wake the guy up.

"Pants."

Matthew groaned and slumped off to Gilbert's room to steal his former roomie's pants, Alfred assumed. While Matthew sloppily changed clothes Alfred continued to look around his brother's place. He had been sharing this apartment with Gilbert for four years, cutting all ties with Alfred and his family during that time, so of course they must have gotten close. It really stood out to Alfred how much of a loner Matthew was growing up. This was a place where neither he, nor his parents, nor anyone else from their hometown could touch or intrude on. After years of knowing each other, this was the first time Alfred ever felt he Matthew's presence rather than his ghost. But what was Matthew so keen on hiding that he felt he needed to escape to a place like this? As horrible as it sounded, for a brief moment, Alfred thought that Gilbert's death might have been a good thing. This was a real chance at him reconnecting with his brother. Their visit during Christmas was a polite family endeavor but the time they'd spend here, in Matthew's personal space, could be meaningful if they let it.

He stared at a picture of Gilbert, Matthew, and one other man hanging on the wall. Gilbert, who were you to Matthew? What did Gilbert certainly know about Matthew that Alfred didn't? Hopefully tonight Alfred could not only help Matthew through his time of grieving but maybe build a sibling relationship that, it only now occured to Alfred, they never had.

Matthew came out of Gilbert's bedroom in clothes that were definitely Gilbert's as they were entirely too big, "you likey?"

Matthew's tone was flat but Alfred tried to smile at what he assumed was a joke, "me likey. Let's go drinky."

Matthew followed Alfred out of their apartment and into the world. It was already late. If they had decided to hit a bar they wouldn't have been out of place in the slightest. Within the next few minutes they would surely pass fellow soon-to-be drunkards, maybe run into a few at the convenience store. The walk there was silent but much for comfortable than conversation would have been. Alfred only hoped tonight's affair would loosen them up some. All this dead air between them was really challenging for him.

Once at the convenience store they broke apart to go buy whatever they felt like they would need for the evening. For Alfred this meant a family-size bag of cheesy ruffled chips and a 12-pack of name-brand cheap beer, _lite_ of course because he was a healthy red-blooded American man. For Matthew this meant one liter of Absolut Vodka. When Alfred saw what his counterpart was planning to do to himself he grabbed a thing of cranberry cocktail mix.

"You'll thank me later," were the only words uttered between the two inside of the store.

Once outside Alfred uncapped the vodka and cranberry and urged Matthew take a knee. The motion was effortless on Matthew's part. He went right down, smooth and expressionless, then held the big bottle up with both of his hands before taking a chug so alpha, Alfred's former fraternity brothers would have wept in awe. Matthew's face visibly soured when he was done with his swig, motioning for Alfred to give him the _god damned cranberry cocktail mix_. Alfred took a knee while Matthew chased and decided that neither of them need be the DD tonight and drank enough to match Matthew and then some. He chased his vodka with a beer from his 12-pack and the two made their way back toward the apartment, bodies slowly warming up as their walk turned more into a march.

Once inside the flat, door locked behind them, they made haste for the couch yet again. Half of the 12-pack was now gone and Alfred was safely drunk while Matthew was methodically slowing down his rate of intake. The two pushed whatever garbage littered the top of the coffee table and replaced it with their liquor libations.

"Matthew!" Alfred shouted cheerily.

"What!" Matthew shouted, much more relaxed now.

Alfred sloppily slapped his brother repeatedly on the arm, "get the Sky Mall Magazine!"

"Oh shit," Matthew said standing up so quickly that he sat back down immediately before getting up again and sauntering dramatically over to the kitchen counter where the magazine sat.

He brought it back over, along with two pens, and the two of them gabbed about getting an indoor trampoline, a pocket projector, and a saxaphone beginner's kit. They looked at automatic wine dispensers, harnesses, and little stairs for dogs to use to climb onto furniture that was too high for their jumps to reach.

"Who would use half of this," Matthew cackled at the image of a weiner dog using the stairs.

"Hey, if you brought a girl over and she saw you had a harness I'm telling you," Alfred was howling, "she'd be so down, dude! She'd be so down, dude! She'd be so down, dude! She-"

"Alfred, you're in a loop," Matthew said handing his brother a new beer, "take a knee."

Alfred got down on one knee and downed the beer, chucking the can at the floor when it was empty, "TOUCH DOWN!"

Matthew helped the all star back onto the couch. He was also completely drunk at this point, but he still had the potential to sober up unlike his brother. Now was the time to show the poor guy some mercy and give him some water. So Matthew went to the kitchen sink while Alfred sang his champion song and filled up a glass. Matthew watched the water settle when what Alfred said sank in.

"Hey Alfred," Matthew asked quietly, if Alfred didn't hear he would drop it but if Alfred did hear…

"Yeah Mattie?" He was still singing when he used his brother's nickname.

How does one go about this? He never had to do this before. When he moved away he just was what he was, everyone knew him as gay. There was no need to come clean to anything. He was already clean in a town where no one knew him. Up until now this place was safe. But now he was with an intruder, someone who, if Matthew told, would carry lasting consequences. But if he was going to die tonight then he may as well die with someone knowing who he really was, someone who could carry Matthew's memory back home, maybe do him some justice or something. Matthew was cognisant but he definitely wasn't thinking as clearly as he could. Tonight may be his last night with Alfred. Regardless of how things ended up after going to see this mysterious savior, Matthew's world will never be the same. So maybe, for once, Matthew would ask Alfred to meet him. Matthew would just ask his brother to look at him and really see him. Would he do that? Would he be able to? Matthew was afraid but now he had no choice. In this moment this is what Matthew wanted. He felt the ghost of Gilbert's hand pushing him to do so, whispering words no one else could hear.

 _Go ahead. It'll be alright._

"Alfred," Matthew said, walking back to the couch and handing his brother the glass of water before taking a seat, "well, the thing is…"

He choked but Alfred remained silent, waiting for his twin to finish. A moment went by. And then a minute went by. Matthew couldn't figure out how to say it, how to tell his brother everything. It felt so impossible suddenly. It terrified him. But then Alfred set his empty water glass down before slumping over and resting his head on Matthew's shoulder.

"It's okay, Mattie," Alfred said, eyes fluttering closed, "you can tell me when you're ready."

"You… you knew?"

"Knew what? I was just," he sighed, sleepily, "just letting you know I'll be patient for ya."

"Alfred, you're so drunk," Matthew half smiled.

"Hey," Alfred tried to bark, "I ain't nuthin'. You listen here, buddy."

"I'm listening."

Alfred sat up and grabbed Matthew's shoulders, making sure their eyes were locked and semi-focused, "Gilbert may be gone but yer not alone, never gonna be. Ya hear?"

Matthew smiled a small sad smile, "Okay."

"Good," Alfred said, lightly punching Matthew on the shoulder, "now I gotta go throw up. If I pass out on the can just leave me there."

"Will do, captain," Matthew said, saluting as Alfred zombie-walked to the bathroom.

The sound of the door slamming was followed by the muffled sound of Alfred puking his guts out. Matthew almost wanted to feel bad but it couldn't be helped. He looked to the clock surrounded by ugly little things Gilbert had carved on the windowsill. It was midnight. Alfred had blacked faster than Matthew thought he would. He supposed tensions were higher than he originally thought.

Matthew tried cleaning up a little around their makeshift bar but quickly gave up, taking a seat beside the windowsill and peeking out through the blinds and the scattered lights of other crappy apartment buildings. He took in everything he could, from the cold emitting off the glass from the outside to the semi-rough texture of the stained carpet under his open palm. A car passed by and then another. An old woman slowly made her way across the street and two teens skated by her laughing about something. Outside of the apartment everyone was doing something, thinking about something, dealing with something. Everything outside is alive while everything inside is...

It's nice that Alfred came. If Matthew really tried maybe he and Alfred could have built from this and maybe things would get better. Life would go on between them and the outside world and eventually the feeling of Gilbert's absence would be easier to deal with. Maybe Matthew would fall in love again and this time he could properly introduce the guy to his family on Christmas. Matthew could fall asleep on the floor right there and forget about the car and bringing Gilbert back from the dead.

But then, why would he do that? It would be so hard to go on living but Matthew knew it was the most likely reality. However, when he looked at the ugly wood carving Gilbert made when he was contemplating things Matthew couldn't help but think,

"There should be more of these."

He picked up the statue, it was small enough to fit comfortably in his palm, "it's a bird right?"

 _Gilbert grinned impishly, working on his latest monstrosity, "yeah! And this one is gonna be… well I don't know yet."_

"You're a mastercraftsman, Gilbert," Matthew said to himself.

" _Don't act so surprised, the awesome me has a plethora of awesome talents. Some of which the likes you have yet to see."_

"You know plethora is usually used in a negative sense?"

" _You're just jealous, Mattie. Hey! I know! I'll carve you!"_

Matthew chuckled, "please don't."

" _Too late! When this baby's done I'll be kissing the wrong boy goodnight! Because, you know, you'll be identical."_

Matthew turned away from the window to look at Gilbert but he wasn't there. Matthew set the "bird" back where it belonged before hanging his head. There was no point in a life where Gilbert wasn't with him. That life is possible but not enough, it never would be. Was it selfish? Did Matthew actually care if it was? No, not even a little bit.

So he got up, went into the bathroom, and helped an unconscious Alfred to his bedroom. He left an empty pot next to his head incase he decided he needed to throw up again at any point and tucked his brother into bed. He snored extremely loudly so the door was closed on his way out. Matthew checked the time again. He decided to shower, brush his teeth, and actually become presentable for his potential reunion in another hour. He put on the shirt Gilbert bought for him two Christmases ago. Gilbert always loved when Matthew wore that shirt and Matthew loved it when Gilbert loved him. What better piece to wear tonight?

02:00 hours on the clock and Matthew left the apartment carrying the tablet and wearing the ring that came with it. True to the robotic voice's word, a car was waiting. Matthew was surprised at how nice a car it was. The door opened automatically and Matthew took a seat on the spotless leather interior. The door closed on its own and Matthew leaned forward to talk to the driver, but there was none. What little courage he had fled from his body instantly when the car began to drive itself.

The tablet screen lit up again, "Welcome, Matthew Williams, we are pleased by your appearance tonight."

"Oh. Yeah." Way to be an intellectual, Matthew.

"Did you bring, and wear, the ring that was delivered to you along with this tablet?"

"Uh, yes," Matthew said in a shaky voice, holding his left hand up where the tablet's built in camera could see. So this thing was more limited than he first thought in observing him. That was comforting.

"Excellent. You have done well to follow instructions up to this point."

"Can you tell me where we're going?"

"We are going to Gilbert," the voice replied.

Matthew's mouth stretched into a straight line. That should have been a comforting thought but it just made him feel like he was going to be horribly murdered even more. Well, too late to turn back. Just try to remain calm. What kind of answers did he really expect anyway?

"Would you like to listen to any music during your ride, Matthew Williams," the voice asked.

Matthew had two options here: he could play something cheerful to distract him from how scared he was or he could play something really dramatic to help set the scene. He chose the former.

"You have the Mamma Mia soundtrack?"

The tablet went dark and the car speakers began to play from the aforementioned soundtrack. Matthew bobbed his head along to the songs, quietly humming to himself trying to shut out his anxious thoughts. He continued to look out the window, desperately searching for something to calm his pounding heart. He felt sick. He wished he told Alfred where he was going. There'll be a missing person's report by the end of the week. Why did he agree to this?

"We have arrived," the tablet said, cutting into his thoughts.

"Oh."

The car parked beside some, based on the overgrowth, abandoned train tracks. There wasn't another building or human in sight.

"Are you sure this is the right place," Matthew asked the tablet, not even trying to hide his terror anymore.

"Of course. Please leave the tablet inside the vehicle and follow the train tracks until you reach the river. Once there climb down using the hidden ladder and there you will meet The Doctor."

"The Doctor? Who's The Doctor?"

But the tablet had already powered down. Figures. Matthew set the tablet down and trembled as he stepped out of the car and onto the hard, near frozen, dirt. The car door closed behind him automatically before driving off again. Well, now Matthew had no choice but to follow the tracks.

He kept his arms held up to his chest, nervously singing to himself to try and not feel afraid. Aside from his own voice, not a sound could be heard in the dead of night. Why did these sort of things always have to happen at night in the middle of nowhere anyway? Why couldn't they just meet up in a Waffle House on a sunny afternoon and discuss whatever need be discussed over something drowning in imitation syrup? This was all a trick and Matthew fell for it. He teared up but kept walking. Soon enough he heard the gentle current of the river the robot voice told him about. The train tracks formed a bridge over the water and Matthew looked through the brush for the ladder. Turned out he had to cross the river, on the tracks, to the other side to find it. It was sturdy enough but he refused to look down as he carefully and lightly made his way across. He sang his song much more loudly as he crossed. Don't be afraid and don't fall down.

Once safely, as safely as this whole ordeal could feel, on the other side Matthew found the ladder and began to climb down. The ladder smelled rusty and squeaked loudly under his weight. With each step he prayed very vocally for it not to break while he was still on it. Quickly enough, Matthew touched the ground again. Now it was semi-slick from exposure to flowing water. Arms once again up against his chest and shoulders tense, he looked around for anyone resembling "The Doctor." Matthew called out for someone but no one revealed themselves. He tried one more time.

"Hello? I'm Matthew Williams?"

He heard a beeping and a door opened from underneath some tree roots. Matthew peered through them, moving them easily out of his way to enter.

"Hello?"

"Welcome," the robot voice returned and a hallway illuminating beyond the doorway, "Matthew Williams."

Matthew's shoulders dropped in surprise, that was not what he was expecting, "Hello again, robot voice. Do I go down this hallway now?"

"That is correct."

Matthew entered, the door closing behind him. At that point he was feeling completely exhausted but he continued down the corridor. At least it wasn't dark anymore. There were several doors without knobs or anything along the hallway walls. Matthew assumed they opened automatically and since they weren't opening to him they were not doors meant for him to enter. Where was this "doctor" character? Did he chicken out? Maybe this robot voice was alive on its own somehow. Then what did a sentient robot voice want with Matthew and Gilbert? Toward the end of the passageway, finally, a door opened.

The room was completely dark apart from the light of the hall where Matthew stood. Only when he entered the room and the door closed behind him did the lights turn on. Every thought in Matthew's head vanished the moment his eyes adjusted back to the light and settled on the only object in the room. There, on what seemed to be an operating table, was Gilbert sleeping. Matthew ran to his side and watched his chest move rhythmically. He was paler than before but he was alive. Matthew's knees gave out from under him and he collapsed, weakly reaching up to hold Gilbert's incredibly cold hand. Upon touching it Matthew noticed Gilbert had on a similar ring to his own. What was all this? Matthew used the table to support himself as he tried to stand up again. He looked at Gilbert's sleeping face and wept uncontrollably.

"Gilbert?"

Their rings glinted and Gilbert's eyes opened.


	4. Chapter 4: The Things Remaining

**Ugly cries. Here's the new chapter. Thank you for all the really nice comments. I thought this fandom was dead (and it totally is) so I'm honestly surprised anyone read it. I hope it continues to live up to your expectations. Also if you have any conspiracies keep em' coming because I thought that was super fun to read. PruCan ftw.**

Chapter 4: The Things Remaining

"Gilbert?"

Matthew whispered the name of his beloved, trying his hardest to control the hot tears leaving trails down his face. When the name left his lips a light blinked from their matching rings. Before Matthew could even instinctively look toward the light Gilbert's eyes opened. It was so immediate Matthew wasn't even sure he really saw them open. Standing over Gilbert, frozen, he watched as Gilbert's red irises seemed to scan the room before finally scanning him.

After a moment, Gilbert sat upright. He did it in one motion, effortless but controlled. Gilbert's face betrayed no emotion. Had his eyes not been open, Matthew might have thought he was still sleeping. Without thinking about it Matthew pinched his own cheek and flinched. If he was definitely awake, then so was Gilbert. One piece at a time, everything came to Matthew. They were in some creepy underground lab in the middle of the night far away from what felt like anyone else in the universe. But they were together. And Gilbert was awake and looking at him from on top of an operating table. And without giving it anymore thought Matthew lunged for Gilbert, wrapping his arms as tightly as possible around the man as he could, and screamed.

"Gilbert!"

Matthew had entertained in his mind the things he could say to Gilbert if he saw him again. He knew he would cry but he imagined he'd articulate something a little more dramatic or romantic than "Gilbert." He thought he'd cry out "I love you" or the classic "I thought I'd never see you again" or something. He thought he'd rattle off a monologue of the life they would live together from then on and how he felt they would never be parted again. None of those thoughts were even remotely in his head now. Even so, crying out the name was enough in that moment. For Matthew then, no word could ever be so dramatic and romantic as the name of the person he cared for more than anyone else in the world.

"So you're my new partner," Gilbert said into Matthew's shoulder.

Matthew's grip loosened. Even though he backed away to look at Gilbert his hands still remained on the man. Matthew looked at Gilbert quizzically, unsure what he meant by that.

"Gilbert?" It seemed the be the only thing he knew how to say.

Gilbert's eyebrows raised slightly, grin forming, "I'm Gilbert."'

Matthew coughed, choking out a laugh through his horribly crying, "Are you trying to crack a joke?"

But Gilbert's face didn't change. He just… looked at Matthew. He looked kind of like a kid looking at a TV, like he wasn't completely paying attention.

"Gilbert, you know who I am. Don't you?"

"You're my new partner," he said, tilting his head a little bit like he was experimenting with his own movements.

Only then did Matthew let go of Gilbert. His brows furrowed together as he took a step back to try and understand what was happening. Gilbert continued to look at him all wide eyed, like nothing was wrong. Maybe his memory was a little fuzzy? He was dead after all. But what did he mean by "new partner?" He was his old partner, if anything. This time when Matthew looked into Gilbert's eyes he realized that those weren't Gilbert's eyes at all. They lacked the warmth and pride of the real Gilbert. But this was the real Gilbert, wasn't he? There was no mistaking it. What the hell was going on?

Matthew suddenly clutched his chest and gagged, dropping to his knees dramatically, "G-Gilbert! The zombie virus! It's turning me!"

Gilbert only followed Matthew's movements with his eyes, his facial expression unchanging and uncaring. Matthew sank all the way to the floor, playing out their little game to the bitter end. He shut his eyes and breathed his very last breath as a human until… the zombie game was over and it was confirmed for Matthew that this was either not Gilbert or not entirely Gilbert. So then…

"Who are you, exactly?" Matthew asked, taking off his glasses and wiping his eyes before turning serious.

Gilbert's raised eyebrows and mouth returned to their original position and he responded very plainly, "I'm Gilbert. You said so yourself."

Matthew realized that the clean movements of Gilbert's face and body up until this point were wholly unnatural. A normal person, much less Gilbert, wouldn't move like that.

"Computer voice thingy," Matthew unintentionally squeaked, looking around at the blank walls and ceiling, "tell me what's happening."

The walls, floor, and ceiling started blinking wildly, before the pixels started connecting, revealing… a mochi? It was soft looking, white with sleepy eyes and a cat's mouth. Protruding from what could be assumed to be the "head" of the mochi was a swirling line. Was it an antenna? Maybe a tail? If it was coming out of the mochi's head could it be considered hair? Matthew tried not to focus too much on the design choices or why a mochi appeared to begin with. The mochi with a face on the screen walls began a bouncing animation and spoke with that far too familiar robot voice.

"Hello Matthew Williams, we are delighted you have called on us."

It was adorable to say the least, but it was also completely jarring. Matthew almost would have preferred a big metal man or a blinking red light fixture or anything a little more menacing. So far, every time Matthew felt he knew how to feel about a situation the theoretical rug was pulled from under his feet. He didn't know if he should focus on the maybe Gilbert or the freaking cartoon character.

"So, is he really Gilbert?" Matthew asked the mochi.

It bounced and smiled, "Of course. This is the recovered and altered body of Gilbert Beilschmidt."

"Altered?" What did that mean?

"Gilbert Beilschmidt is the last of what was once referred to as _Project Reset_. _Project Reset_ was first established seven years ago under The Doctor. Unfortunately due to _Project Reset's_ failure to produce positive results, its sponsors pulled out leaving behind only what you see here in this laboratory."

"What do you mean positive results? What is _Project Reset?_ "

" _Project Reset_ was to change the course of human history and medicine. Thanks to advances in neuroscience, robotics, as well as nerve conduction studies, _Project Reset_ was able develop the first highly functional cyborg."

"A cyborg? You mean like a robot?"

"That is an inaccurate term."

"So _Project Reset_ made successful cyborgs out of dead people?"

"That is incorrect."

"But you said-"

" _Project Reset_ was able to develop the first highly functional cyborg. This does not mean the project was successful."

The whole experience was going quickly from unsettling to disturbing, putting it mildly. And hearing it all from a dancing mochi didn't help Matthew's discomfort. He looked back to Gilbert again, who only sat there. This did not seem to be the first time he was hearing all of this. Instead Gilbert was only looking at Matthew, studying his reactions to the information he was being presented closely. Timidly, Matthew turned back to the mochi.

"So what happened?"

The mochi bounced, blushing happily, "We are delighted by your interest."

That's a weird way to put it…

"Five patients guaranteed to die donated their bodies to the project. They were operated on, parts of their bodies being removed altogether should it have been deemed necessary. However, complications arose due to the nature of how some of them died."

"Like what?"

"That's classified," the mochi said immediately, still bouncing.

Matthew's mouth pursed in frustration and mild confusion on top of whatever mishmosh of emotion he was feeling. This was a lot of information to take in so suddenly. He chanced a glance back at Gilbert, who quickly looked away and to his feet. Was he trying to learn how to act around Matthew by watching him? Maybe he was sensing how Matthew was feeling. The nature of the death influenced what happened to the patients when they woke up… or something like that. Without any specifics Matthew could only make assumptions but, Gilbert slipped on some ice and hit his head. Was that why he wasn't completely there? But even that felt wrong to Matthew, it felt too easy.

"Okay then. Another question."

"Of course," the mochi started its little dance again.

"No one knew Gilbert was going to die, which means he never agreed to be made into a cyborg. So why did you pick him to turn into one?"

"That is because The Doctor wished it."

"Why did The Doctor wish it?"

"That's classified."

Another dead end, so he tried again.

"Who is The Doctor?" 

"That's classified."

Seriously?

"Will you tell me anything else?"

"It is currently Thirty-Four Degrees Celsius outside."

Gilbert put his hand over his mouth, covering up a little cackle. So this thing had a sense of humor and so did Gilbert, it seemed. At least his laugh was still the same. Matthew wasn't amused but he was getting tired and felt like giving up the whole affair. Who knows? Maybe he'd wake up in a moment and find out this was all a dream. He pinched his face again.

"We assure you, this is not a dream," the mochi said.

So it understood human gestures too. Matthew felt he should do his best to pay attention to as much as possible. Even the smallest detail could help him. The robot voice wasn't going to tell him anything it felt he didn't need to know, but it did speak very carefully. It seemed it would never lie to him, but it would gladly leave out parts of the truth to misguide him. It was the most sophisticated and detailed AI Matthew had ever heard of. There was also the possibility that they were all being observed, and the robot voice was The Doctor speaking to them under the guise of an AI. Matthew had a million questions to ask but how many would get answers? How much of Gilbert was changed into a cyborg? Why do they have matching light up rings? Why can't he know who The Doctor is and about the finer details of _Project Reset_? Now that he thought about it, why was he brought here? Why was he privy to all of this in the first place? That one felt fair enough to deem a real response.

"That is because Gilbert Beilschmidt is incomplete and will need someone more mobile to monitor him. You will not betray Gilbert Beilschmidt, Matthew Williams."

"How do you know that?"

"Because you came here tonight, knowing nothing except that Gilbert Beilschmidt would be here."

The implications of that scared Matthew. It all scared Matthew, but something about the way that robot voice put it really rubbed him the wrong way. And they needed him to be a "mobile monitor" type for Gilbert. That meant they couldn't watch them at all times but it also meant if they tried to run they'd be limited in following them. Matthew took in a deep and careful breath, calming at the thought of a plausible out.

"Yeah, you got me there. Just to be sure, Gilbert doesn't recognize me?"

"That is correct," the mochi smiled, it was really starting to gross Matthew out.

"Can he come home?"

"That is allowed."

"Okay then, Gilbert, let's go home," Matthew said taking Gilbert's robot hand, trying to speed up the process of getting the heck out of there.

"Onto the matter of business," the mochi interjected, stopping them in their tracks, "in exchange for bringing Gilbert Beilschmidt back to you you will be required to assist in the recollection of Resets."

"Wait, what?" Matthew asked, feeling as if he had had the wind kicked out of him suddenly. So much for a clean getaway...

"Due to a lack of finances the proverbial lights cannot stay on forever. During a recent blackout four of the five original Resets escaped. Using Gilbert Beilschmidt's modified body you will return them to this laboratory for dismantling. And then _Project Reset_ will finally be completed."

"You said four out of five… are these Resets the patients?"

"That is a correct assumption."

"You want me to help you kill those people?"

"That is incorrect. They are no longer people, but cyborgs. And they were dead before they became that way."

"No, I can't. I can't do that…" He felt sick. 

But this time Gilbert replied instead of the mochi. With Matthew's hand still holding his, he raised their hands up. His face had finally changed, turning serious. It made Matthew's knees buckle.

"In making your appearance tonight wearing this ring, you've already agreed to what would be asked of you."

Now Matthew felt helpless, "no, Gilbert. I don't wanna hear that from you. You were supposed to be on my side, remember?"

Clearly he didn't. But the mochi started speaking again, "you may always pull out, should you so desire. However, Gilbert will power down the moment you do. That is what the rings monitor."

So they could be watched to some extent, even if they ran away. Gilbert doesn't remember him or their life together. Matthew wasn't even sure if Gilbert remembered ever being alive. So even if Matthew found a way to keep Gilbert from being shut down he probably wouldn't disobey the mochi. And it was Matthew's own fault for agreeing to anything without thinking about it. So now he was going to assist in killing people… Then again, like the mochi said, they weren't exactly people anymore. And who would miss them if they were already dead? Who else,outside of the lab, knew about the Resets and _Project Reset_? Did Matthew really have to think about any of this? He came all this way and they said he had a choice but… did he really?

"Okay… I'll do it."

"Excellent. We look forward to working with you, Matthew Williams."

"You said I could bring Gilbert home. What do I tell Alfred? He's still there."

"We have been observing Alfred Jones and have deemed he will not betray your desires and, by extension, the mission. You may disclose as little as possible to him. You may also inform him that should he try to challenge the laboratory with such actions as alerting authorities or attempting to destroy Gilbert he will be terminated immediately."

"How can you say that!?"

Now Alfred was going to be dragged into this? How was he going to make Alfred understand that they don't have a choice and it's probably fine anyway. Those patients agreed to this. They're not even people anymore. But even so, Alfred did always have a hero complex. Still, Matthew didn't think there was really a way to keep the finer details from Alfred. And sending him home wouldn't keep him from creeping back into Matthew's life, not after the last few days of them being together. What should he do?

"While he may be vital to you, Matthew Williams, he is not necessary to the success of the mission," the mochi bounced happily, pushing Matthew to a decision.

"Is there anything else horrible I need to know right now?"

"No, there is not. Not immediately."

"Fine, can we go now?"

"Yes. Should you leave the way you came you will find the automated car has returned to the train tracks and is waiting for you."

"Okay, come on Gilbert," Matthew said turning away with Gilbert in tow.

Matthew wanted to feel scared again but the moment the two stepped outside Gilbert gasped and froze in place. Was it a bear? Matthew turned around to see what was halting Gilbert but there was nothing immediately striking. Matthew followed Gilbert's glittering eyes upward to the sky and then Matthew noticed it. They were far enough away from the city that the sky was completely clear and full of stars. And it hit Matthew that in Gilbert's current state this was something he had never experienced before. Come to think of it, Matthew had never seen anything like this either.

Even though Gilbert was a cyborg now his hand was still warm holding his. Looking up at the stars together by a river in the woods far away from the rest of the world, Matthew felt they could have been this way in another life. Maybe they still had a chance to. So he tightened his grip on Gilbert's hand and closed his eyes to make a wish.

"They told me about you, a little," Gilbert said.

It was strange to hear Gilbert talk for some reason. Maybe it was just that nothing felt real anymore. Even so, Gilbert tighten his grip on Matthew's hand as well. It was startling.

"I'll do my best to act like the Gilbert you remember."

Matthew nodded his head left and right a few times, hurriedly. That seemed so unfair to this person. Inside the lab he might have been grateful for it but now they were outside, in the real world again. And asking this Gilbert to be someone he didn't know anything about seemed cruel when he seemed to already be forming his own personality.

"It sucks you don't remember, I wish you did," Matthew started, "but I think for now you should just be you, if you can. It… may not feel like it but you're safe with me. So you don't have to try to be Gilbert or… I don't know."

Gilbert didn't say anything to that. Matthew had no way of knowing how long this new person was in the world but being forced to be someone you aren't sucks. No way would Matthew make the mistake of asking him to do it. It was so horribly painful though. Gilbert was here and yet he wasn't. It weighed down on him. If he wasn't so tired it probably would have made him cry. Was he always such a crybaby?

"Hey," Matthew said trying to cheer up, "since you don't have to be Gilbert why don't we give you a new name."

"Like what," he seemed kind of happy about it, the pressure was off.

"How about Gil?"

That was so lame. But then Gil cackled that old familiar cackle that Matthew remembered so dearly. Maybe it was possible his memories would come back? For now, these little traces of the man he loved would be enough.

"Okay then, call me Gil!"

"Okay, Gil. Let's go home."


	5. Chapter 5: The Dream

**It's been a rough few days. You can laugh but I got into a fight with my cat and she's not speaking to me. I'm very depressed about it so this chapter is kind of short.**

Chapter 5: The Dream

The sun was already rising into a periwinkle tinted sky when Matthew and his cybernetic other made it to their shared apartment front door. It was red, the only red one in the entire complex. They painted it that color the night they were drunk on having consummated their love. And the following morning their landlord was very angry with them and demanded they paint over it again. The pair agreed but never went through with it. The landlord never returned to ask them to change it, probably having decided to keep their deposit in exchange for the momentary lapse in judgement they called "artistic expression."

Matthew was out of practice when it came to sneaking back into houses, having not performed said ritual in over four years. However, he hadn't lost his touch. Every motion of entering the apartment was slow, deliberate, and as silent as possible from turning the key in its lock to twisting the knob to shutting the door again. Matthew entered first, scoping out the area. He knew the likelihood of Alfred being awake at this hour, especially after all his drinking the night prior, was incredibly low but the more timid twin would do anything to avoid immediate confrontation. He knew he'd have to ease Alfred into the whole mess eventually but he really didn't know how to go about it yet. Besides, he hadn't slept at all since yesterday. More than anything now he wanted to collapse into bed with Gilbert and go to sleep. Then Matthew's violet eyes turned back to Gil, still waiting outside watching Matthew as he peered around.

Would crawling into Gilbert's bed with Gil be considered cheating? It's weird to think about but while they shared a body they did not share a mind and probably not a theoretical heart either. How did this Gilbert, Gil, feel about Matthew? Did he feel anything at all? He was certainly polite to Matthew, even went so far as to say things like he'd try to become the Gilbert Matthew remembered and loved… well remembered at least. Did he know anything about how their relationship used to be? Could it be like that again if Matthew gave Gilbert some hints or flat out told him what to do? No, Matthew turned down the idea, having already told Gil to just try and be himself for now. Did he even have a self to be? Gil resembled Gilbert at times with a certain familiar twinkle in his eyes and that cackle laugh but this Gilbert's sense of irony and humor were much more subtle than the original's. At least, that's what Matthew had gathered during their brief conversations. On the car ride back home the two of them hardly spoke at all but the same Mamma Mia soundtrack was still playing. And, while he tried to hide it, Matthew could tell Gil really was liking what he was hearing though he did not know what it was. That was a person experiencing the world for the first time while trying to be someone who had already been in this world forever. And Matthew wondered, what would he think of the apartment? Would something come back to him if he had a look around?

"It looks safe to go in," Matthew whispered not especially carefully, "follow me."

"Okay," Gil whispered back, imitating some kind of foot soldier. Was he in the mood to play a game?

Pushing open the door Matthew slipped in before Gil could really see the inside. He turned around quickly to observe Gil, wondering what he'd notice first, wondering if anything would come back to him. But to Matthew's lack of surprise Gilbert didn't seem to be struck by anything in particular, eyes darting immediately to a pile of clothes on the ground and some beer cans from the night before then toward the bathroom where the scent of vomit Matthew had forgotten to flush wafted into the living room and kitchen. Maybe Matthew should have tried harder to prepare for Gil's arrival? He felt embarrassed, lowering his head enough to let his wavy unwashed hair fall over his face. He had no idea how much of himself he had let go in the days Gilbert was gone. Alfred was right, Matthew was a horrible mess. He was only able to see how gross this place was now that it felt like the worst was over… except it wasn't. There was also the matter of them hunting down rogue robots who were also zombies. What kind of grotesque video game world were they living in where any of this was a possibility?

"Oh," Gil mumbled to himself, crossing deliberately across the room and picking up a little carving to admire.

Matthew's heart raced. That was the one Gilbert had carved to resemble Matthew. He spent the entire day whittling away at that little piece of lumber, using tweezers to remove his occasional splinters and bandaids to quickly cover up cuts on his fingers from the knife slipping loose in his grip. It was the hardest Gilbert had ever worked on a piece and it looked nothing like Matthew. Where Matthew was slender, baby faced, and wide eyed, this wood carving was amorphous. It didn't have eyes or any other distinguishable human features,l if Matthew was speaking plainly. He couldn't quite call it an alien either. He didn't know what to call it other than a monstrosity. But the beaming toothy smile Gilbert wore when he finally showed Matthew his masterpiece made the lie slip out so naturally Matthew hadn't realized he told one. _I love it. You've made me so beautiful._ Seeing that creepy statue in Gil's hand now made Matthew think maybe it wasn't a lie, not anymore. He resisted the urge to cry, far too emotional for his own good lately. He needed to keep it together, at least until after a long and well deserved sleep.

"Do you like it," Matthew whispered, coming around the cheesy chip crumb dusted couch to look at the mini Matthew over Gil's broad shoulder.

Gil squinted at it, face visibly tensing, before quietly responding, "what's it supposed to be?"

Too emotional or otherwise, in one swift motion Matthew stepped back, took off his glasses, and mutely cried his heart out into his red hoodie's sleeve. In the two seconds it took Gil to turn around to look back at Matthew he was already back to normal, eyes only a little puffy. He was still capable of these subtle arts as well, it seemed.

"You okay?"

"A little tired," Matthew lied. "A lottle tired," Matthew truthed.

Gil's expression changed then, it softened when Matthew spoke. It wasn't the softness one would see if Gil had been looking at the man he was in love with but it thankfully wasn't the softness of pity either. There was no way to really determine what kind of look it was other than simply soft. His crimson eyes lowered back to the lacquered carving in his palm before returning it to its original position by the grey window. He gave the room one last look around. Muddy blue colored walls, a well worn in moss green fabric couch littered with clothing and tissues. At its feet were lumpy and flattened patterned pillows that were meant to be decorative but were often stepped on. And beside them was a glass top coffee table stained with misty rings of coffee and soda and tea never wiped once. There was a shelving unit of books and DVDs and video games, all second handed. Beside it was a makeshift looking pillow fort inside of a spray painted black crate fashioned to resemble a reading nook but instead resembled more of a small cave with an impenetrable mouth stuffed with 100% cotton towels and spare bedding. Under their feet was a faded black carpet with specks of different colors dots and crumbs in it. But most importantly were all the little pictures crookedly clinging to the walls with scotch tape. They were pictures of Gilbert and Matthew and what would be assumed to be their other friends. They were pictures of cute dogs and delicious food; of sunsets and sunrises, all taken with disposable cameras. If the subjects didn't look like they were having some of the best times of their lives, they would have come across as pretentious. This was the life of Gilbert Beilschmidt, this was the life Gil had forgotten.

His gaze travelled back to Matthew who was looking at him dejectedly. There was something missing between the two of them. Even with Gil's memories wiped he was aware of it. He could see Matthew was doing everything he could to keep from betraying too much about how he was feeling; both to keep himself guarded and surely to protect Gil. But it was too late. With only a glance he could see any number of things stirring inside Matthew's heart. It was something he had been able to do from the moment he woke up to the smaller man's weepy face. Maybe it was something Gilbert had left behind for him, a sort of clue to their shared past. That wasn't something he needed to continue to think about though, not when he himself was growing so tired.

"Where's the bedroom?"

Something about this question made Matthew tense up. No, it wasn't something. He knew exactly what it was. Would Gilbert forgive him if he shared a bed with his lover's handsome doppelganger? Matthew bit his lip instinctively. He had no intention of crawling into bed with Alfred instead. What if he puked in his sleep? Yes, Gilbert would understand. If their roles were reversed Gilbert would probably do the same. He would also have a similar panic attack, actually. Then Matthew bit his lip harder to keep from smiling too obviously. If Gilbert were in his shoes he'd take a clueless Matthew by the hand and guide him to the bedroom, going about it as dramatically as possible as if there were an invisible audience yucking up at the odd couple. Maybe he'd even dance around a bit. Gil seemed to notice Matthew's mood swing in a more lighthearted direction. This helped Gil lighten up as well. In response Matthew forgot himself, taking Gil by the hand. Just let go, have some fun, relax, stop dying inside all the time and do something. Blushing madly, he cooed at the familiar stranger.

"Right this way." Maybe he was also in the mood for games.

Matthew's fingers were pale and clammy on Gil's much warmer but equally pale ones. They wrapped around his and tightened, taking a moment to settle in a place that was all too familiar. Instinctively Gil's digits copied the motions of Matthew's. Their hands were not completely together, fingers not remotely intertwined. They were not holding hands but delicately the tips of each other's fingers. And it was nice. A little stressful. But nice.

Matthew faced away from Gil toward Gilbert's scratched and stained bedroom door. His mouth tightened, face tensing but remaining theatrical. Gilbert's eyebrows pulled faintly together, his breaths slowing down and deepening. Every motion being made felt as careful and quiet as when they entered the apartment together earlier. It hadn't been so many minutes since then but time was moving at a glacial pace, turning individual moments into fuzzy sepia toned decades. Unconsciously all Gil's attention went to the coolness of Matthew's touch. _Was this part of Gilbert's life too_ , he wondered as he was lead.

The door to the bedroom opened but Gil didn't pay any mind to anything in the room. His eyes were trained on Matthew's free hand lightly gripping the smudgy doorknob, gliding away once the door was shut again behind them. Matthew's eyes never met Gil's while their hands were together. They were trained on anything but the figure of his former lover. And finally when their fingers let go Matthew moved toward one side of the bed leaving Gil at the desk by the door. Gil's thoughts were foggy but he remained cool and composed in spite of the unfamiliar feeling growing in his abdomen.

"I'm going to sleep now…"

Gil remained still and stoic, his chest rising and falling slowly with each natural breath. The visual made Matthew's shoulders relax. Gil was definitely alive. Why does he feel like he's still teetering on a tightrope between a dream and reality?

"You can," Matthew started, "also sleep?"

And then the two of them were in bed together, backs ghosting eachother's, warmth radiating from their proximities under the covers. Matthew's glasses were set on the little windowsill by his side of the bed. His body was quickly slowing down but his thoughts were racing and incoherent. He was in bed with Gilbert again. Gilbert was alive. He still smelled the same. Matthew would get to see him in his favorite shirt again. How did they ever share this bed before? They were closer before. Does Gilbert's new body eat food? What did either of them do to deserve this? How could they have been so lucky to have been given a second chance? The thought both relieved Matthew and terrified him. Were they going to be like they used to be ever again?

"Gil?"

"Yes?"

An immediate answer.

"You can say no but," how could he say this, "You don't have to be Gilbert but… just this one time maybe…"

Gil remained silent as Matthew mentally groped around in the dark for the embarrassing and lonely words he needed.

"Would you hold me until I fall asleep?"

At first Gil said nothing, a distinct contrast to his former "yes." There was no response, nothing. Matthew closed his eyes as tightly as humanly possible, wishing with every fiber in his body he didn't ask for such a stupid and creepy and sad thing. He curled himself up tightly and dug his palms into his hot eye sockets to try and stop the tears from spilling over for the thousandth time that night. On top of being an absolute loser he was a crybaby, in over his head and a mistake since birth. Why was someone so pathetic ever born? He was such an ugly and miserable joke. He wished he could just disappear and feel nothing but the cold void threatening to swallow him up; its shadowy hands reaching up from his own consciousness to tug at his clothes and pull him as low as he would let them.

But that cold isolated clawing feeling was suddenly replaced with tender heat. Gil's body moved behind him before one large arm draped over his torso while another dug under his waist into the mattress until both arms were completely wrapped around him. And then Matthew was pulled into Gil's warm chest and he was able to feel Gil's heartbeat in through their touching ribs. And that was what finally did it. The thought of Gilbert's heart beating again so close to his forced the final sobs of the evening to freely fall out into his hands. He didn't dare turn to face Gil and Gil never prompted him to explain. Matthew didn't know if Gil understood him or not. Even Gilbert had trouble following Matthew from time to time. All he did know was that the arms around Matthew were strong, tightening, and comforting. And they were the last thing he was aware of when he finally was able to sleep.

 **Okay so my cat is a stray and I've been caring for her for awhile now and recently she's become cuddly, which she was not before at all. So I think that meant she trusted me. But then one day I noticed one of her eyes was kinda messed up, like MESSED UP. So I called a vet to see if they could take her to check on her eye and when I tried to take her she squirmed and ran away and I followed her in the rain crying my eyes out begging her to come back so we could go home and it was just heartbreaking cuz I lost her. Then eventually she was in the bushes of my house and I was ugly crying letting her back in and I tried to pet her but she moved away very gently like "I had nowhere else to go that's why I came back. You broke our trust so I'm gonna need some time." I gave her some treats and I have no clue what to do about her eye but yeah… We're both very emotional right now.**


	6. Chapter 6: The Welcome Home Party

**My cat and I are starting to get along again! I swear, she's one of those Ghibli cats that used to be human. Also I've had a twitter if anyone wants to follow? I post pretty regularly about chapter updates and make memes for the Free! Fandom ( BackstrokeBOI). Just if anyone's interested. Okay! New chapter time!**

Chapter 6: The Welcome Home Party

The sound of a faint clicking brought Matthew back into the waking world. Even though he had been sleeping his eyes were dry, making it hard to keep them open more than a tight squint. His throat was stinging and sore due to his excessive crying. His entire body was heavy from having been sucked into one of the deepest sleeps in his life, one that felt like it lasted over a hundred years. It brought Matthew the strangest, one of many, dream of longing he'd had since Gilbert's death. Not only did Matthew miss Gilbert to the point where he felt like he was dying, but he was also losing his mind. His body was well rested but his thoughts remained stagnant from exhaustion. Matthew tried to sit up but was impeded by a pair of arms tightly wrapped around him. Was someone else in bed with him? He remembered he and Alfred drinking the night before, did the two of them fall asleep together?

"Alfred?"

No response.

"Alfred, let go of me. I need to pee," Matthew groaned, reaching over to the windowsill for his glasses.

That faint clicking sound returned in the form of the doorknob to Gilbert's room turning. The door creaked open revealing a severely hungover and gray toned Alfred wearing nothing but a stolen burgundy bathrobe. Matthew hadn't seen such a trainwreck since their high school days, aka Alfred's "Die Partying, Please Don't Tell Mom and Dad" days. But that left one question unanswered: if Alfred was in the doorway moaning in agony, who was in bed with Matthew? His thoughts immediately returned to the dream he thought he'd had.

"Don't tell me…" He muttered under his breath, lungs suddenly devoid of oxygen, head starting to spin, and hopes rising faster than rocketship.

Alfred squinted at Matthew, having not understood what he was seeing; as the younger sibling struggled to sit up, a set of beefy ivory arms were revealed wrapped around his waist.

"Did you sneak out and make a friend?"

And then Matthew moved the puffy charcoal colored duvet cover away from his bed partner to reveal the mysterious figure's identity to the two of them. While Alfred was squinting he'd lazily closed his eyes again, head nodding off to one shoulder. However, Matthew's eyes only grew wider. There, right beside him, releasing soft sleepy exhales was Gilbert Beilschmidt. His feathery white hair falling across his forehead stuck out against the darker toned bed sheets. His frost colored lashes were just as long and thick as they were in his lonely dreams. His slightly parted pastel lips silently called for Matthew's to wake him with a kiss. But then the rest of the dream came back and he realized that this wasn't Gilbert, but Gil. And while the disappointment tugged at his heart he could not help but be moved by the sleeping man's actions. Gil had held onto him and stayed beside him the entirety of their rest. Matthew reached out with a gentle hand and brushed Gil's warm cheek with the knuckles of his fingers, moving them upward to tuck some of his hair away from his still lidded eyes.

He was right there. It wasn't a dream. They were snuggled up in bed together like nothing happened. So long as this man stayed sleeping, Matthew could escape back into the dreamy feelings he thought he'd have to leave behind him forever. There, in that room, in their bed, the world was perfect. No one could hurt them. His fingers lazily traced down Gil's relaxed jaw, along the muscles of his his neck, across his collar bone to his shoulder. His touch glided along his lover's smooth skin down his arm until he reached his hand, the one that held onto his fingers and took care to keep him comforted through the early morning. This was him. This was the man he loved. And nothing else mattered.

"Matthew, what the hell?" A far away voice interjected.

Slowly coming out of his lovelorn daze to recall that he had an almost naked twin brother standing in the doorway of his cybernetic boyfriend's bedroom, Matthew said, "Oh right, you're still here."

"Oh right, my ass! Who the hell is that and why is he in your bed," Alfred's raised tone of voice only contributed to his own headache. He reached up to press into his temple while stumbling to the edge of Gilbert's bed to take a seat. Upon arrival he got a good look at the beautiful sleeping stranger and realized he wasn't a stranger at all. Alfred's blue eyes snapped to the photo on Gilbert's old desk of the roommates holding up a couple of large beers together smiling before returning to the unconscious man still half spooning his sibling.

"It's not what it looks like," Matthew tried to cover. He wasn't sure if he was covering for the fact that Gilbert's body was there or the fact that it was lovingly cuddled up to Matthew.

"You didn't dig up his body, did you?"

"No, of course not!"

"That's why you wanted to drink, you didn't want any witnesses to your necbromancy."

"Well, you're half right but you've got it all wrong! And please don't make such weird jokes!"

"Joking is coping, ack! That's not the point, Matthew. Tell me why Gilbert isn't buried."

Alfred was more surprised than Matthew anticipated he would be if he was resorting to quips. This was not how Matthew had envisioned coming out to his brother about the fact that his dead roommate was now part-robot and the two of them were enlisted to hunt down other part-robots; or the fact that they were in love with each other before the surgery that turned him into a part-robot made him forget who he was when he was alive; and if they didn't get the remaining part-robots he would be shut down again forever. Spelling it out like that made it all the crazier sounding and that was ignoring the fact that Matthew got into a car with a stranger in the middle of the night, went to an unknown location so far out of town he could see the cosmos as clearly as he would have with the Hubble Telescope. Did he forget to mention his robot zombie boyfriend(?) were caught in the middle of a post one-sided feels fest cuddle? How did Matthew plan to explain any of that?

"The truth is," Matthew fumbled with his words, "when Gilbert died his body was taken to a lab where someone called 'The Doctor' operated on him, made him into a cyborg and brought him back from the dead. I was brought to that lab last night and Gil was able to wake up but he's lost all of his memories of when he was alive. I didn't know how to tell you so we snuck in and passed out as soon as we hit the bed. But I was gonna tell you! Just… not like this…"

Well it wasn't everything but it was a start and Matthew felt relieved. He got out all the important details and it made him feel lighter. When was the last time Matthew had felt so honest, especially with Alfred? He never thought he could tell the guy anything. But something between them changed last night when Alfred was smashed. Even if it was only for a moment they really saw each other and maybe they were even able to understand something about each other too. It was only a moment, but it was enough for Matthew to try and trust him.

"Matthew," Alfred said looking wistful, "I think you need to see a doctor."

Matthew tried not to be upset that Alfred didn't believe him, why would he, but he lashed out anyway, "would you rather I said Gilbert had an evil twin or something?"

Alfred scooted closer to Matthew, a combination of frantic and nauseous, "at least it's in the realm of possibility. I think you've actually lost it."

"You think I'm lying."

"Matthew, you're always lying. You think I never noticed? We shared a room until high school! I know everything!"

"You don't know everything," he didn't deserve to feel so disappointed since Alfred was right… but still… Did last night mean anything to him? Weren't they finally getting along?

"I thought you were a compulsive liar but it turns out you were just on the verge of snapping and and and Gilbert's death finally got to you," Alfred planted a supportive hand on his brother's shoulder, "You need help."

"Fine, I'll prove it," Matthew plucked Alfred's hand from his shoulder and held firmly it in place near Gil's sleeping face. Alfred struggled weakly, too sick to really fight back. But then he felt it: a weary breath from the cadaver's parted lips brushed his nail beds. Alfred's eyes widened, terrified by the implications. He looked at Matthew with horror and surprise, which was enough of a signal to warrant Alfred's release.

"What is this thing?" Alfred's voice went low, fear killing off his migraine once and for all.

"I told you, he's a cyborg now… and a pretty heavy sleeper, guess that hasn't changed either."

"Matthew," Alfred said in a shaky, hushed voice, "We need to go."

"What?"

"We need to leave before he wakes up."

"Woah, what are you talking about?"

Alfred stood up, taking his brother by the wrist and tugging, "whoever did that to him is out to get you. We need to get out of town, quickly."

Matthew pulled his arm free, "Seriously, Alfred. Stop it. You're scaring me."

Alfred took Matthew's hand again, "No, he's scaring me. You have no idea what you're doing letting him stay here."

"Excuse me?"

Matthew's voice rose but Alfred shushed him, "be quiet or he'll wake up. Trust me, I've played these games a hundred times. It's not safe to stay with him."

"You think this is a video game? Now who sounds crazy?"

"I don't have anything else to go on," Alfred pulled harder, forcing Matthew to his feet, "Grab your important stuff and let's get out of here."

"No," Matthew resisted.

"Yes," Alfred insisted.

"Let go of me, Alfred," Matthew struggled but failed in Alfred's sober grip, "I'm staying with Gilbert."

"You're coming with me," Alfred said, dragging his brother to the door, "I'm only trying to help you."

But then Matthew was able to pull himself free; at least, that's what Alfred thought until he turned around. What he saw when he looked back nearly stopped his heart. Gilbert's body was awake, moving, looking directly at him, and holding onto Matthew like a territorial beast.

"Matthew doesn't want to go with you," he said, irises spinning like gears. He really wasn't human anymore, "If you're going to leave you're going to do it alone."

Alfred clicked his tongue in his mouth daringly, summoning his courage, looking down on the man guarding his brother even though they were of equal height, "you better watch your mouth, 3PO. Them's fightin' words."

Matthew shuddered when Alfred's accent slipped out. He only ever heard it when Alfred was extremely frightened or angry, usually a combination of the two; and that accent was always followed by a beat down. He feared for Gilbert. If Alfred was ever in a mood no one was safe and Matthew still had faded marks to prove it. As for Gilbert, whenever he got into drunk bar fights he'd always get his ass kicked. The guy just couldn't stay down though, which led to even worse black eyes the next morning. He'd always say "you should see the other guy, haha, he looks fine." Then again in the four years Matthew had known Gilbert he could count those fights on one hand, whereas with Alfred the brawls were countless. The point was if this continued Gilbert was going to die again.

Then Gil raised his hand and it split apart, the only thing Matthew could compare it to in his mind was a kid's transforming car toy, revealing some kind of weapon underneath his human exterior. The hand that cared for him so tenderly wasn't even a hand; and it was going to eviscerate his spastic twin. It made a scifi warm up noise that not only scared the shit out of Matthew but immediately made Alfred turn as white as a bed sheet. He looked like he could pass out at any minute.

"Gil! Stop!" Matthew shrieked, grabbing onto the forearm blaster desperately.

The rings on their fingers lit up once again and Gil's body froze momentarily before taking on the physicality of booting up again. His arm made more unnaturally mechanic sounds before returning to its original shape and Matthew calmed down (only slightly though). His knees gave out from under him. But before he could fall Gil's arms were around him again, keeping him standing. Matthew waited until he had caught his breath and his mind had settled before finally checking on Alfred.

"You okay?"

"No," Alfred said, wheezing, clutching his chest to keep his heart inside his body.

"I'm surprised myself," Matthew looked back at Gil, "please don't pull a gun out on Alfred."

"He looked like he was hurting you," Gil said a little robotically, "when I was informed about my mission I was told to make sure I protect my partner throughout the duration."

Matthew stepped away, regaining his balance, so he could help Alfred back up, "he was a little rough with me but that's just because he's my brother. Brothers are just like that. Believe it or not you two have met before and you actually got along."

Gil made no remark while Alfred desperately clung to Matthew for dear life. So even with all of Alfred's "game experience" he didn't know what to do when faced with the real thing. What the strangest part of it all was, for Matthew, how he could still look at Gil without feeling the slightest bit afraid. Was this called "blind love?" Maybe Alfred was right and Matthew was actually just broken and crazy. It's all probably true. Even so Matthew couldn't bring himself to care, which only facilitated Alfred's case against him.

"It's okay Al, he's not gonna hurt you. I'm gonna need you to sit down and really listen to me this time. Can you do that?"

"Uh huh," Al whimpered, taking a seat back on the bed.

This time Matthew slowly and calmly let Alfred know what was happening and he was more than willing to believe. Matthew told him about how he found the tablet and the ring that came with it, his journey to the secret lab by the river, about the dancing mochi, The Doctor, the mission they were assigned, and about Gil. He told Alfred everything… almost everything…

"But I just don't understand why you would do all of this for him," Alfred said, eyes glossy, "why did you go through all of that for him and agree to do all of this when he doesn't even remember you?"

Almost everything…

"There's one more thing I guess I have to tell you."

Alfred waited patiently for Matthew to finish and Matthew took in a deep breath. He looked at Gil who was sitting farther away at Gilbert's desk to make Alfred more comfortable. Gil was probably able to put the pieces together of how they used to be or at least he was onto them. Was it okay to come out now? Would that be imposing on Gil? Matthew found himself unsure again how Gil was feeling and usure again of what the right course of action would be. Gil said he had protected Matthew because he was told to. It wasn't a surprise to Matthew but it stung to hear that. There was no reason for Gil to care about him but it was nice to think he did… Regardless of their pending relationship and boundaries, he needed Alfred to understand that nothing was going to stop Matthew from seeing this through to the end. Even if Gil never remembered him he just had to stay by his side. It was all for his own sake. He needed Gilbert in any version he could get. And this was the only way to make Alfred understand: by telling him the truth. After all these years Matthew was going to really tell the truth. So he said it. He just said it.

"I'm gay, Alfred. And before all of this Gilbert and I… we were…" Matthew trailed off, fear manifesting and churning his stomach acids.

"Together," Gil finished to both of the siblings surprise, "I don't remember anything but there were some clues around the apartment."

That was different from the old Gilbert, Matthew thought. This Gil was keen. Or was he trying to cover for Matthew asking him to hold him last night? Was he observant or a liar or both? But his thoughts were cut short when Alfred stood up silently. He walked toward the door and opened it before looking back to Matthew.

"I'm gonna change and go for a walk," he said, "I need some time to think."

And before either of the remaining men could react the door was closed again. Matthew sighed, collapsing again on the bed, his face buried in a pillow. Gil watched from his seat at the desk. He asked if Matthew was alright but whatever Matthew said in response was unintelligible thanks to the pillow on his face. Gil didn't quite understand everything that had happened. But Matthew looked like he was deteriorating pressing the pillow harder onto his face. Was he trying to asphyxiate?

"Matthew?"

He didn't respond.

"Matthew?"

Still nothing. Was he trying to kill himself? Gil hurried to his feet and to Matthew's side. He put one knee on the edge of the mattress to support himself as he reached with both hands to remove the pillow covering Matthew's face. It came away with ease and he was relieved to see Matthew looked fine. Then again, wasn't it impossible to end one's own life that way?

"I thought you died," he said lightly, setting the pillow down.

"I was just being dramatic," Matthew returned in equal lightness thinking Gilbert would have known that.

"Is that why you cry so easily?"

"I wasn't crying this time," Matthew said, puffing out his cheeks like a child.

Gil's expression was unreadable as he loomed over Matthew. And it made the boy beneath him restless. It was amazing how much he looked like Gilbert. He was Gilbert. But he wasn't. With those red eyes of his lowered, scanning Matthew in that becoming familiar way, and his lips slightly parted Matthew was suddenly aware of how imposing Gil's figure was; he was massive. He remembered having a similar thought with Gilbert a long time ago when they had moved in together. But he repressed the memory. There was too much on his mind already; if he thought about those early days again he knew he would start to cry and he didn't want Gil to see him shed anymore tears. It was too embarrassing.

So like divine interjection, Matthew's stomach growled… and he was embarrassed anyway…

Gil let go a little cackle, "you want me to cook you something?"

"... I can cook for myself, thank you very much."

Matthew hurried out of the bedroom and into the kitchen, face tightened and cheeks puffed like always. Gil followed him, cackling all the while. Why, of all things, was that one of Gilbert's qualities the one he retained? Just like with Gilbert, some days Matthew loved that laugh and other days it made him want to punch a wall.

The kitchen was still a mess. Matthew knew he'd have to clean up before the day was over. But first: breakfast. Matthew looked at the digital clock on the overhead microwave. It was noon so: brunch. The stuff Alfred used to make pancakes were still cluttered the counter, including the batter caked bowl. Pancakes it is. Matthew went ahead and rinsed out the bowl before grabbing milk and eggs from the fridge. At least Alfred remembered to put those away. Then he filled a kettle with water and waited for it to boil so they could have tea with their meal. While Matthew mixed up the ingredients he watched Gil pick up cans and laundry from around the couch in the sitting area.

"You don't have to do that, I was gonna clean today," his voice came out mousey.

"It alright," Gil grinned his famous crooked grin, "I live here too, right? I'll get started around here so when you're done cooking we have a place to sit."

Matthew wanted to argue but there was just something so sexy about the man picking up after him. Watching him bend over and scuttle about, humming to himself while he looked for a basket to sort darks from lights. It made Matthew completely forget his task and he stopped mixing. Luckily lumpy batter is better for pancakes. But there were no lumps on Gil's body, Matthew was reminded, when the germanic man bent again at the waist, henley shirt riding up revealing a muscular lower back.

Matthew slapped himself, nearly dropping and spilling his lumpy batter all over the stained countertops and grimey floor. Gil noticed but quickly returned to his work. Like the old Gilbert he liked cleaning, Matthew observed. He set the still kind of dirty pan from yesterday back on the stove and heated it up. That was probably not very hygienic but he just needed to focus on something else. Flipping the pancakes over and over again made him think about his own mood flipping all over the place. He was ready to burst into tears a few minutes ago but now he was in the kitchen trying to keep his horniness at bay by nearly burning brunch. He rationalized with himself, praying Gil didn't catch his wandering eyes. It was Gil's fault for being so considerate and helpful. How annoying…

Matthew's eyes travelled back to the man in question who was organizing his former selves' wood carvings, looking for a nice place for them to spend their days. Did Gil actually care about Matthew or… was he just following orders? It was hard to tell when everything he did he seemed like he wanted to. Maybe he was just the willing type? Maybe he liked to be told what to do? No matter what Matthew had to remember that the man before him wasn't Gilbert anymore and getting sentimental and thirsty wasn't going to change anything. He'd only regret it later anyway.

Matthew poured two cups of tea and Gil came over to help carry their food over to the coffee table. It was another one of those moments where nothing felt different between them. It was a relaxing Saturday afternoon, their favorite time to spend together. If this were any other morning they'd have the front window cracked and let a nice breeze float in while they listened to nonsense on the radio or played a pornagraphic audio book on their shared bluetooth speaker. Gilbert would always make the most hilarious faces when things turned steamy while Matthew would always try not cry (and fail) and the romantic scenes. Then Gilbert would scoot in close and pull Matthew onto his lap and hug him while he cried, never failing to call him cute. And then Matthew would get embarrassed and they'd end their meal by wildly making out. Those were Saturday afternoons with Gilbert Beilschmidt. So what about Gil? When they were both seated, Gil put his hands together and closed his eyes. Matthew watched him unsure of what was happening when Gil peeked back with one eye.

"Are we a house that prays?"

"Not really."

Gil's hands dropped and he relaxed, "Better safe than sorry. I didn't wanna offend you or anything."

"Ah no," Matthew felt weird, "it's cool if you want to, don't mind me. Alfred does sometimes."

"No, I uh… huh."

Gil's head lowered, lips tightening into a straight line while. They were both feeling awkward, each of them wringing their hands looking for something to talk about. Matthew wondered what Gilbert would do if their roles were reversed. He was always good and getting out of these kinds of moods. That was another thing that was different about Gil, he acted like the type who's rather just sit in it and hope it went away soon. So Matthew clapped his hands together dramatically and cried out,

"Oh creepy wood carving of mysterious origin! We thank you for the food!"

Matthew ravenously descended upon his pancakes, stuffing them awkwardly into his mouth until he choked. When he tried to chug his tea he burned his tongue and ended up nearly barfing all over the table. It was the least attractive he'd felt in a while. He probably made things worse. When Matthew visibly slowed down into a silent pity party, Gil loudly clapped his hands together too and yelled,

"Oh Matthew the weirdo, I thank you for the breakfast!"

And then he cackled again getting up to bring Matthew some water to save him from choking. Matthew took the water, thanking Gil halfheartedly. He might have preferred to die in that moment. Matthew wiped his mouth with his hoodie sleeve, mentally thinking that it needed cleaning too.

"I'm not a weirdo," he griped.

"But you do weird things. Like last night with your dancing into the bedroom and just now," Gil had one eyebrow raised but Matthew didn't feel like he was being judged.

"Well… I just didn't know what else to do and Gilbert was always good at stuff like… knowing what to do. I don't know," crap, he went and mentioned Gilbert again.

The two fell into another silence but it was less awkward than before. Matthew continued to pick at his food. Gil sipped his tea but he hadn't touched his plate yet. And then another thought occured to Matthew.

"Do you eat? Or do you like drink gasoline or like- are you solar powered? I kinda cooked for you without thinking, that's my bad," Matthew tugged at his longer hair nervously.

"Hmm," Gil mused, "You wanna know why I'm not eating?"

"Please don't say it's because I burned the food, I'm really sorry about that."

Gil let out a breathy chuckle, strikingly a softer reaction than Matthew expected, "I don't remember what food tastes like. Or, I don't remember pancakes. I'm still human, sort of. So I eat food, like you. This is just my first real meal since I was built. Back at the lab for the first few days they just hooked a nutrients tube into my arm or something. I just wanted to… appreciate looking at it and smelling it I guess."

Gil continued to let out breathy laughs, growing increasingly more and more bashful. Matthew was ashamed to admit they made his heart leap. It wasn't his fault, he rationalized, he was still looking at Gilbert sort of. That man was the love of his life what was he supposed to do when he was being so cute? Then Matthew felt guilty for another reason.

"I should have cooked you something better."

Gil smiled, nodding no cheerily, "This is what Gilbert would have eaten with you right? So it's perfect."

Matthew continued to feel guilty. Gil didn't have to keep saying stuff like he was trying to be Gilbert. Matthew didn't want to expect that from him. Especially when he thought it would only hurt the both of them. But he kept his mouth shut, trying to save this lighter atmosphere. And Gil finally cut into his pancakes and took the first bite. He made a face like a newborn baby trying ice cream for the first time. In so many ways that's what he was. His beaming expression made Matthew want to feed him until he exploded. He loved that face.

They continued to eat and when they were done sat in silence for a while. Matthew's thoughts wandered back to Alfred and what he might have been doing or thinking. He didn't really notice Gil getting up with the dishes to go off and clean them. When he did, he felt bad again. He should be doing more to make Gil's stay comfortable. But Gil went right back to humming when the water started running in the sink. He liked cleaning. Matthew was grateful for that because he was far too moody to consider actually doing anything himself. He'd rather rot away on the couch waiting to go back to sleep. He noticed he hadn't changed much between Gilbert's death and Gil's reappearance. That made him guilty again. Could he just get off his butt and do something with his life? Could he at least help Gil clean?

"I thought what you said this morning took a lot of courage," Gil said, coming between Matthew and his thoughts like clockwork.

"Well, it's not like we could keep robot hunting a secret from Alfred if he stayed with us."

"Not that."

The faucet stopped running water and Gil came back around to sit on the couch with Matthew. It was enough to make him start to tremble. Matthew focused on wringing his hands in his lap and not at Gil's face. He felt the cushion next to him press downward. Yeah, he was definitely sitting there. Was he still trying to be Gilbert or was he following orders or was he just like this?

"I've never come out to anyone before," Matthew confessed quietly.

"Nobody?"

"I never told anyone back home and when I moved here I just started out like it wasn't a secret or anything. Gilbert really helped me a lot back then," he mentioned Gilbert again which made him start to panic.

But Gil let it slide again, he was too forgiving, "I was surprised when you said Alfred and I had met before."

"Yeah, it was right before… well… We went to Alfred's Christmas party. I hadn't seen him in four years and I was so awkward and you made a 69 joke and he liked you immediately but I spent the rest of the party scared of your joke, Gilbert's joke, like it was gonna out me," when Matthew laughed at his own story it sounded tired, "But it didn't. I feel bad for getting upset now."

"So I used to be the kinda guy who made 69 jokes," Gil's smile was teasing and coy.

"You remember what a 69 joke is but you don't remember pancakes?" Matthew let the man beside him try and lighten the mood.

"Guess The Doctor felt like that was important knowledge. I happen to agree. But I also liked the pancakes. Thank you, again."

Matthew's real smile finally crept up to his face, "They're easy to make. Next time I'll show you."

This is where Gilbert would have asked to be shown what 69 is and the thought of him making such a stupid joke forced Matthew's open palm to smack his mouth to try and stifle a spit-laugh. He bent over and laughed so hard, harder than he would have if someone had actually verbally made the joke. He half screamed into his palms, all of the stress and overload expelling in one maniacal laugh. That was it, he had lost his mind.

"Did I miss something," Gil asked, placing a warm hand on Matthew's upper back in an attempt to bring him back to his senses.

When Matthew looked at Gil again he was wiping little tears from his eyes, "Gilbert was really dumb. I was just laughing at that. I'm sorry."

Matthew caught his breath while Gil's eyes went to the floor, "you really miss him."

"Yeah," Matthew said trying to take everything back, "but please, don't feel like you have to be Gilbert and if I say too much you can tell me and I'll stop. I'm really sorry."

Gil finally lifted his head up to face Matthew before he could ramble, "It's okay. It's kinda nice knowing somebody cared so much about me, or even liked me, ya know? It's comforting knowing at one time I had a place to stay too. Not everything's the lab, or something."

He voice was upbeat in an attempt to assuage Matthew's guilt, but they both knew he was still a little sad. Maybe he was as just as lonely as the other had been. Matthew was so focused on how he was feeling and the mystery of Gil that he hadn't paid attention. Gil was aware something was missing between them. For every feeling Matthew felt, Gil felt one too. Everything was so new to him but there was no one to help him along. And all of his efforts were being put into helping Matthew cope with the new situation, with Matthew missing someone who might never come back when Gil was hurting just as much… And it finally all came together for Matthew. He was just like Gilbert. He was Gilbert.

"Well, I care about you, Gil," Matthew started, standing up and looking down to Gil before bending over and wrapping his arms around the man's broad shoulders. Matthew embraced him as Gil for the first time, "and when I get to know you better I'm gonna like you too. I miss Gilbert but I'm also happy I was able to meet you and give you a home."

For the first time since he woke up Gil had acknowledge the feeling bubbling up inside of him, waiting just underneath the imitation skin. It wasn't that he was trying to be Gilbert or make Matthew like him, not really. He was just going through the motions of what he thought a person would do if they were in his position. But even that wasn't right. When Matthew cried, Gil wanted to support him. When Matthew laughed, he wanted to laugh too. What he wanted to be was human. He wanted to be Gilbert because Gilbert had a place in this world. But where did Gil fit in it? The feeling of being held unnerved him and his heart pounded. Even the computer parts of his body felt like they weren't functioning at the height of their capabilities. So many things about Matthew's words threatened and frightened him. He was cared about? Gil was someone who could be liked? This was his home? They were straightforward statements but Gil didn't understand them, not the way he would have if he were just a machine. And that thought brought him some comfort. So Gil's arms moved up to wrap around Matthew's torso once again, and the two embraced. They held onto each other and stayed that way until they felt it was enough. But it was only enough after a long time.

Later on, Matthew went back into Gilbert's room to retrieve the diary he had hidden in the old desk. He presented it to Gil, explaining what it was and asked if by some miracle he knew where the key was. But Gil didn't. He asked why Matthew had such a thing and why he wanted to open it.

"To be honest, I didn't know a lot about Gilbert's life before we became roommates. He never talked about it. All I know is that he was a runner like me. And I think maybe there might be some clues in here as to who The Doctor is and why all this is happening."

Gil took the book and admired it. It was incredibly nice and obviously handmade by a master craftsman to his specific tastes. The sight of the locked diary made Gil realize he had preferred tastes. He gave it a sniff. Well worn black leather binding. A silver lock. Silver ink lined pages. He could understand why Gilbert would keep such a magnificent item to catalogue his journeys. Gil even mused starting one for himself.

"Want me to break the lock?" Gil asked, completely over the masterpiece.

"Woah what? You can do that?"

"Robot super powers."

"Oh yeah," Matthew visibly shivered recalling seeing Alfred at gunpoint, "Wouldn't that be disrespectful?"

"I mean, it's my diary isn't it?"

He had a point. And Matthew was too curious to let his morals guide him, "okay."

Gil held the book up, away from Matthew, and pointed to the lock like his finger was a gun. Then his finger opened like his arm did earlier and Matthew mentally took rapid breaths into a paper bag.

"Bang," Gil said lazily and the lock vanished. What a powerful yet contained blast.

Gil was about to open the book when he saw the look on Matthew's face. He couldn't help it, he had to ask.

"Matthew?"

"Yeah," his voice cracked.

Gil hesitated, things were going so well for them and he was going to ruin it, "Are you afraid of me now?"

Then Matthew's expression changed, he looked genuinely confused, "No?"

Gil tried again, "I scared Alfred."

"Everything scares Alfred. Besides, you pulled a gun on him."

Then Gil turned serious, pointing his still open finger at Matthew, "what about now?"

Matthew's face twisted as if he had just heard the lamest joke, "Hurry and open the book, dude."

Gil lowered his hand and glared at Matthew, "I just pulled a gun on you."

"And?"

"What do you mean _and_ ," his voice rose without him meaning to, "you're way too trusting."

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Am not, I just trust you."

"What? _Why?_ "

"Why shouldn't I?"

Matthew didn't appear upset at all and it helped to settle Gil back down, "Then why do you look so surprised?"

"Because I am," Matthew said like this was that was the dumbest question in the world. And the dumbest question was given the dumbest answer, "I've never seen an arm open before. You don't even have any lines on your body that imply you can do something like that."

"O-Oh," Gil turned a flustered red color, "I thought… Well…"

"It's okay," Matthew said, touching Gil's arm, "I feel that way too sometimes."

That way too? What did that mean? Matthew wasn't a cyborg and he wasn't some kind of human weapon? Matthew saw Gil's lost expression and explained.

"Sometimes I don't trust myself either. And when I don't trust myself I can't trust anyone else."

"How do you know I'm not gonna hurt you," Gil asked exasperated.

"I don't. I just trust you won't try to."

The response didn't shock Gil, but it did move something inside him. He marinated in the words while Matthew took the book back and opened it. And when the boy frowned Gil was able to recover from his momentary emotional overload.

"What is it?"

"Can you read German?" He held the book up and Gil took a long and careful look at the pages. It looked like he was scanning them. Finally he looked back up to Matthew.

"No," he said hesitating, "I guess I forgot German too… Sorry. I know you thought this would help."

Matthew was visibly disappointed, "It's okay. It was probably just embarrassing love letters and-"

Before Matthew could finish his sentence the door was kicked in and Alfred was standing there in a cowboy hat, tight leather pants, and cowboy boots with spurs. He even had a stars and stripes bandana around his neck and a stick of wheat in his teeth. Where did he even get that? His breath reeked like whiskey and he looked like he was ready to fight someone.

"FUCK!" He greeted them as he stomped crookedly into the apartment, door slamming behind him, "He can stay! But I'm gonna watch him! And!"

Suddenly he was swinging a rifle around. Was that where he went? Was it loaded? "If y'alls fightin' rogue robots y'all gunna need someone with years of C.O.D. under their AMERICAN FLAG BELT BUCKLE!"

"Holy shit Alfred, you're drunk," Matthew ran to help stabilize his brother.

But Alfred just kept talking, looking dead at Gil, "You! Help me puke and then we'll talk!"

"Alfred, what the hell is wrong with you," Matthew started sobbing, "You're not in college anymore! You can't keep getting shit faced and putting on this outfit!"

"You mean he's worn that outfit more than once," Gil asked, getting up to take Alfred to the bathroom, diary still in hand.

Matthew tried to follow them but Alfred only yelled, "The men are gonna do some talking! Go do something else for seventeen minutes! Oh… I'm gonna be sick…"

"Why seventeen? Whatever, sorry Gil," Matthew sighed, "orders are orders and there's no reasoning with him when he gets like this. I'm gonna run to the thai place nearby and get us all some dinner. I'm sorry, please help him. You can leave him unconscious on the toilet if you want."

"Hurry up and leave!" Alfred whined.

Matthew slid on his tennis shoes and left the apartment. As soon as the door closed Alfred's personality switched entirely. He was suddenly completely sober. He stood up on his own, put the toilet lid down, and took a seat again. He removed a little bottle of jack from his pocket and took a swig. It was all an act.

"I wanted to talk to you alone for a little," Alfred said, holding the bottle out ot Gil.

"No thanks."

Alfred screwed the cap back on the bottle and returned it to his vegan leather vest's inner pocket before spitting his thing of wheat out from between his teeth. Gil watched it fall to the floor and wondered briefly if Alfred had any intention of cleaning it up.

"I'll be frank. I don't trust you man, but," he paused, actually making a real effort to calm down and have an open discussion, "but Mattie's happy right now… and I know it's because of you. I really want us to be in each other's lives again and if dealing with…" He sighed, looking Gil up and down before continuing, "I don't mind that Mattie is gay or that you're his boyfriend. It was surprising and I'll need some time to adjust but, I know I'll be able to. What I do mind is that you're a zombie robot thing and he's going to have to team up with you to fight other zombie robots. You've probably noticed but Mattie's kinda a cry baby, you really think he's gonna be able to do anything to help? Do you get what I'm saying?"

Gil wanted to say that he did. But Alfred's mood swing was too jarring. The only words he could actually manage were, "so you're not drunk?"

"No, just a swish to kill my breath and help sell the bit."

"Oh."

The two fell into a horrendously awkward silence. Was this guy really Matthew's twin? The only thing they had in common was maybe that they looked similar and that they both suffered from horrible mood swings. That, and they both were self sabotaging, impulsive, and considered themselves craftier than they were.

"You know, you and I met before," Alfred started, "I threw a Christmas party and you made a 69 joke."

"Yeah," Gil said nervously, "Matthew told me."

Alfred sighed, licking his chapped lips to stall for time, "I thought you were funny."

Gil chuckled, "I probably thought I was funny too."

The two of them were also earnest in their efforts when it came to trying to get along with people, Gil noted. Another silence, but progress was being made. So Alfred tried again.

"What's in the book?"

It was then Gil realized he was still holding it, "Gilbert kept a diary. But the whole thing's in German."

Alfred glared at Gil through the lenses of his glasses, "Don't act like you can fool me, I know you can read it."

Gilbert stared back at Alfred, realizing that he was considerably more perceptive than his brother. He probably couldn't lie to Alfred about this successfully, so he gave the cowboy his honest opinion, "I don't think Gilbert would want me to say."

"That's cryptic."

"I was only able to skim a few pages so I don't know the whole story yet. For now though, please don't tell Matthew."

"... Okay."

"Really?"

"A act of faith, don't let me down."

"You have my word, nothing will happen to Matthew."

"Course not," his natural accent returning a little, "cuz if somethin' did happen I'd shoot'cha." He pulled a handgun from under his shirt and grinned, using it to tip his top hat at Gil.

Gil was more frightened by Alfred's unpredictability than his six-shot revolver. He was also aware that Alfred knew he couldn't intimidate the cyborg with the threat of force like he could with anyone else. Did the two of them really get along at one point? Something told Gil that any chance of them being more than polite to each other was never going to happen. But civility between them was guaranteed because Gil was aware that Alfred was ready to do anything for Matthew. And, regardless of logic, Gil was somewhat willing to do the same. These feelings of uncertainty faltered only when Gil finally got a good look at Alfred's attire and chuckled.

"What's so funny," Alfred asked, sounding less confrontational and more like he was genuinely interested in laughing at a joke.

"I was just thinking how funny we look. Doesn't this sound like a movie: a cowboy and a cyborg."

"Well," Alfred said, smirking, "I could go for a beer. You want one? Of course you do, you're Gilbert."

Alfred laughed, leading the albino man into the kitchen. Maybe politeness could turn into friendliness after all.

"What do you mean?"

"You forgot beer too? Gilbert _loved_ beer. You share taste buds so you probably will too. Trust me, I'm doing you a favor by telling you this."

Alfred cracked a can from the fridge and handed it to Gil, who accepted it. He wasn't sure what he should do with it. He knew it was a drink but that was all he knew. Did Gilbert really like this stuff or was Alfred baiting him?

"A sip," Gil finally said.

Alfred held up his own can and they toasted. Alfred chugged and Gil sipped. His eyes burst with the light of a million embers. It was if an old forgotten love had returned to him after years of fighting on the front lines of some terrible war.

"Wait! You're right! Gilbert was right! I get it!" And the two of them chugged, faces turning hot, and ugly laughing moving to the couch to watch some television. Friendliness? More like actual friends.


	7. UPDATE

**Hey readers. It's me, TonoRadish.**

 **For those who don't know I have a anime dedicated Youtube channel under the same name. I've decided to dedicate some time to that for a while as I have undertaken a BIG project. So you won't see me writing for Scratch or any other fics (maybe one shots here and there) for at least a month. I want this project to be something worth all the hype I'm putting around it so all of my efforts must be focused. This fic WILL ABSOLUTELY come back as I very much love this fic.**

 **Sorry if this is a little annoying but I really have to follow where my passion sends me at the drop of a hat. I will come back but it'll just be a little while. Thank you so much to my darling readers!**


	8. This Story Has Been Moved To AO3!

**Hey all! Another update! So I'm finally making the switch. I'll be on AO3 from now on. I'll still be under "TonoRadish" though so don't worry. It won't be hard to find me. I will be moving this story there though so if you still want to read I'm sorry but I'll have to ask you go there.**

 **Thank you so much!**


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